


maybe something we'd be good at

by adreamaloud, daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Skins (UK) RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-07
Updated: 2009-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-18 18:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/adreamaloud, https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We can't stop."</p>
            </blockquote>





	maybe something we'd be good at

The first few days back are, truth be told, more difficult than Kat’s really ready to let anybody in on.

“You alright?” asks Meg. Kat looks at her script, and then at Lily talking with Kaya and Lisa at the far end of the room, before lighting a fag.

“Yeah,” she says, weakly. When she looks again, Lily turns her head, catches her eye; waves a little with a free hand before twisting open a bottle of water.

After a while, Meg just says, “I told you to—I thought you would sort it over the break.”

Kat exhales smoke out the window, leaning against the window sill; says, “I know,” and then, “I was going to. I _am_ going to.”

Sometimes, when she listens to herself, it worries her.

*

Most days are spent in wanting; Kat spends a ridiculous amount of time stealing glances in between takes, yet she never looks at Lily quite enough when she has to – when she legitimately can.

On the fifth retake of a particularly bland scene, Kat asks for a bottle of water; someone tells her it’s okay to feel a bit out of focus occasionally, since ‘it’s been a while.’

Lily says, “What, you need reminding as to how you’re supposedly in love with me or something?” Her smile’s that perfect lopsided thing and it makes Kat’s heart beat out of turn – it’s more real than anything, if she were to be completely honest with herself, and it’s got her hoping to be both transparent and unreadable at the same time.

It’s like half the time she’s holding back for fear of being found; half the time her heart’s bursting with the truth.

Kat takes a giant swig from her bottle of water, tries a smile, no matter how painfully it stretches her face.

*

One night in the flat, Kat overhears talking downstairs in the living room. “I’m starving.” It’s Kaya talking over the telly. “I’m going out with Lily for snacks; come with?”

Meg says, “There’s food in the fridge. It’s 2 in the morning.”

There’s the muffled sound of the refrigerator opening and closing. “No offense, but your food isn’t edible, Megan,” Kaya says, half-laughing. Despite herself, Kat snickers. She’s standing near the stairs, where she’s near enough to hear and yet far enough to be hidden.

“I’m looking to shed a few pounds, babe,” Meg just says. Kat nearly imagines her signature eyeroll, before she asks, in continuance, “Lily’s in Bristol?”

Kat holds her breath.

“Apparently she is,” Kaya says. “Didn’t say where she’s staying, though.”

Meg just says, “Ah.” There’s little else but murmurs, after, so Kat doesn’t hear anything of substance, not even when she strains to hear. Instead, she closes her eyes.

There’s a shuffling of coats before, “Are you sure you don’t want to come with?” After a pause, “You sure we shouldn’t wake Kat?”

“Better this way,” Meg just says. “Be safe.”

Kat has to bite into her lip to keep from making a sound.

*

Nobody talks about it in the morning, and Kat pretends to know equally nothing, tries her best to mask the feeling she gets at breakfast, when Kaya hands her a paper bag with something decidedly bread inside, first thing.

“What’s this?” she asks, voice barely above a croak.

“Lily says good morning,” Kaya just says.

Kat grips the edge of it with a still sleepy hand, pretends to yawn to the side before opening – the smell of croissants waft from it, and Kat tells herself, surely, she’s just being kind.

Besides, it’s decidedly too early in the morning, and her heart surely can’t feel this much, all at once, so close to waking.

*

On the day she has to kiss Lily, her shoes break in mid-take.

“What the fuck were you doing in them, jumping jacks?” Lily asks, a loud laugh at the end. Kat pretends to pout, but then Lily rubs her arm so affectionately that Kat short-circuits instead.

Wardrobe gets a replacement in due time; it’s still ridiculously high, as is anything she has to wear, if she isn’t to look like a fucking hobbit beside Lily’s long legs. Kat shifts extra-carefully from one leg to the other, leaning against the railing, careful not to break anything a second time.

“Ready?” asks Lily, an arm casually draped over one of Kat’s shoulders, hand poised to grab her by the back of her head, as the script requires. Kat glances over at the crowd one more time – it’s a fucking party scene, and she remembers with a shiver how they’ve done it before an audience of fifty crew members - all shaky hands and hitched breaths and fuck, come to think of it, that was _method_ because the nervousness was _real_.

And here they are now, before a massive crowd of extras in addition – this thing never fails to push her against the wall and over the edge of _something._

Kat breathes in, shaking the nerves out. “Sure.” Somebody yells a sort of cue and Lily’s at it again, pulling her in, her eyes so bright, her lips so full, and the way she’s holding Kat – the hesitation is just _absent_ , and for a moment, Kat forgets this feeling of teetering, and instead, _tips_ , relaxing.

Lily closes the gap between, over and over, and Kat feels her breath taken away, again and again. Her lungs feel like burning from the lack and overflow of entirely different things.

*

It’s like that time Lily kissed her against the lockers in the last series, only it’s not; it feels a lot longer, a lot more intense. It’s different, this – it’s different, being pushed into a row of lockers take after take, compared to, say, being pulled closer by the back of your head in a fucking stairwell surrounded by a party crowd, over and over.

On the fourth take, Lily asks, “Are you all right?” Kat holds the back of her neck a little, rotates her shoulders, lets out a sigh and a weary smile. “God, should I be more gentle?”

It’s one of the weirder questions Kat’s been asked of late, and she can’t help the slight giggle that slips out of her in response. Lily furrows her brow. “I think we’re doing just fine,” Kat musters, finally.

Lily smiles, reaching out tentatively to work her thumb over the corner of Kat’s lip where her lipstick has smudged. “Sorry,” says Lily, a shy smile suddenly on her face. “Should we get make-up?”

Kat swallows, tries not to have her world reduced to a single gesture. Shaking her head—managing the movement, at last—she just says, “No need,” and then, “Let’s do this again, yeah?”

*

Predictably, Kat does not sleep that night, or at least, not until morning starts hinting outside; when she does, her dreams are a mixture of Lily’s lips and her thumb running lightly on the corner of Kat’s lips; Lily’s grip tight at the back of Kat’s head; Lily whispering in her ear, _Should I be more gentle?_

Kat wakes after every question, sweating.

*

The following day, Lily slides in beside Kat at breakfast, and Kat tries to suppress her yawns.

“You all right?” asks Lily, casually, as if the question holds no weight.

Kat says, “Of course,” bites into her apple before, “Why shouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” shrugs Lily, poking her fork into her omelette. “Just that, you seem really out of it, these past few days. Care to let me in on that?”

Kat holds back her sigh, tries not to let Lily in on how hard everything just _is_. Instead, Kat bites her lip. “It’s just stress,” she says, looking away.

Lily only says, “If you say so.” She finishes her omelette in silence before pushing herself off the table, says nothing apart from the quiet smile Kat takes as a sort of goodbye. Kat looks at her as she walks away. Lily fishes her pack of cigarettes out of a pocket when she gets to the door; the sight makes Kat check for her pack in kind. Upon finding it, Kat counts one, two, three – until the urge to join Lily outside for a smoke passes.

(She reaches forty with the feeling still so intense, that she has to turn away from the door altogether.)

*

Lily approaches her when they receive the other half of the scripts, worry creasing her brow. Kat doesn’t see it at first, but then Lily urges her to turn the page. She reads down two-thirds of the way, and that’s where she sees it, acknowledging it with a soft, “Oh.”

“It actually comes to this, yeah,” Lily just says, sinking to the gutter and lighting a fag with the hand she’s not holding the script with. Kat follows suit.

“I’m daunted,” Kat says, lighting a fag in kind. Lily just rolls her eyes, says nothing; it’s almost like it’s Naomi she’s sitting with. “You seem upset,” says Kat, softly.

“Christ,” Lily breathes, murmuring low as she shakes her head. “Fucking method.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lily shakes her head. “Never mind.” She takes a final drag off her cigarette before stubbing it against the pavement below her. “Sorry, just that – I don’t want to have to fight. It’s upsetting.”

“We used to fight, before,” says Kat, trying a little cheer in her voice and failing spectacularly.

“Before is different,” Lily just says, sighing. “Before is before everything in between.”

Kat tries to process that -- _everything in between_ \-- tries to wrap her head around it, once, twice; tries to figure out when exactly “before” ended and “everything in between” began.

Blinking, a long while after, Kat just says, “It’s not real.” She clears her throat, thinks about the way her heart stills and restarts, stills and restarts, whenever she’s around Lily, lately – really, it’s hardly imaginary, this.

Lily’s still shaking her head, but she’s saying, “Yes, yes of course.”

Kat just looks at her, at how Lily herself can’t even seem to bring herself to believe it. Kat keeps her hands to herself.

*

Kat finds herself in quite a mess, when it does come around. They shoot for three days. They share a room, but they don’t speak, as the room is charged with a heavy sort of silence that begs to say much. Kat spends the first night staring at the shadows moving on the ceiling as Lily sleeps soundly on the other bed, after a long day.

The morning after, Lily looks like she wants to begin talking but instead, she hands Kat her cup of coffee, still silent. Kat only smiles in response, before returning to what she’s pretending to read; in truth, she’s only staring at her script until the letters come apart and the words cease making sense, melting into nothing but arbitrarily arranged lines on a page, and after a while, her eyes well up with a familiar sting, and she forces herself to blink as the words blur.

After a while, Lily says, “You realize we _have_ to do this, yeah?” Lily lights up and blows smoke past her, that Kat’s eyes water all over again.

“Is there a way I could—how did you and Meg—”

“It’s going to be okay,” cuts Lily, a hand light on Kat’s forearm. Kat’s script is crumpled along the edge where she’s holding too tight with a sweaty hand. “It has to be real.”

Kat sighs, surrendering; it’s Lily’s resolve voice that does it now, and Kat deflates into herself, for the time being. Of all things that have to be real, Kat just thinks to herself, staring at the same page for the rest of the day. Of all _things_.

*

Kat spends most of the second night smoking outside the flat, waiting for Lily to turn off the light; tries phoning Meg, sometime after midnight.

“I don’t want to have to hurt her,” Kat says, voice coarse.

“You don’t have a choice,” Meg just says.

*

Kat hits her _hits her_ on the third take, after missing the first two times.

Lily as Naomi says something like, “Are you done?” in that dreadful, uncaring tone, and it’s when she’s supposed to hit her across the face with an open hand. It’s pretty simple, come to think of it – it’s a whole lot shorter than they expected, and the room’s eerily quiet throughout and even several moments after.

Somebody yells something akin to “Cut!” and Lily lets go of a long breath before throwing her arms around Kat, kissing her on the cheek even for good measure, saying something about a job well done. When they break apart, Kat’s still in a form of shock, and Lily breaks in with a laugh.

“You all right?” says Lily, still smiling, her cheek barely a few shades of red lighter than the lipstick she has on, where Kat hit her.

It almost hurts Kat, that this is so easy for only one of them. “I think I’m the one who should be asking you that question,” she says instead, managing a laugh herself, albeit a bit nervous. With a shaky hand, she tries to touch the flushed spot on Lily’s face, still slightly warm to the touch.

“Meg hit me harder last year, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Kat forgets about her best laid plans as she leans in and kisses Lily on the cheek; tries to make it appear like it’s the only friendly gesture she could manage, at the time. “All better now?” she asks, though her voice quivers lightly at the end of it, as cannot be helped, and a bit of her uncertainty shines through the entirely nonplussed façade she was originally going for, in the beginning.

When Lily looks back at her, the confident smile is gone; in the split-second between, Kat notes how something in Lily’s eyes shifts from certainty to question. Lily blinks before saying, “Yes, definitely,” and though she’s smiling again (that familiar smile), Kat knows at the back of her head, there’s something that has changed there, all right.

*

It’s thankfully the only time it has to happen; in a bit they’re back to kissing in hallways again, and at some point even Kat can’t stop herself from sighing.

“Should be easy,” says Lily, adjusting her bag strap on her shoulder. “I mean, I could do this with my eyes closed. Literally and figuratively.”

Kat laughs, hangs on longer than necessary at Lily’s hand. There was a brief hiatus in between, and it’s the first time in days that she’s seeing Lily again, and the moment feels too precious. “Is that right,” Kat just says, pulling Lily in, raising her hand as if to twirl her; Lily follows, laughing loudly, their arms a ridiculous tangle after, their faces too close.

 _Should be easy,_ Kat tries the phrase herself, just quietly in her head. She’s standing outside by a wall, smoking a fag, thinking about this when Meg joins her. “You’re fucking helpless, aren’t you,” says Meg, lighting a cigarette in kind, shaking her head.

Kat even manages a laugh. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” she just says. “There’s no use fighting it.”

Meg laughs a little herself, says nothing as she finishes her cigarette. When she stubs it out, she just says, “If that’s your final answer, then fucking figure out what happens next,” before getting back inside.

*

The thing is, she expects this to be easier; remembers telling herself how it shouldn’t be too hard, at all. She reminds herself that it’s nothing they haven’t done before, albeit in the skins of their characters, but still – it has to count for something, right? Like advice, or tips, or something. Besides, just the fact that this isn’t entirely new – it’s all been written before, it’s all been done before, what more is there to worry about? Kat asks herself this, but then again, despite everything, her hands are shaking.

And then, there’s Lily. She comes to breakfast in shorts, sliding in beside Kat with her bagel and coffee. Her hair is damp from a shower and she smells faintly minty; it’s all too maddening that Kat has to inch away, a little.

“What, I just took a shower, I should smell good,” Lily says, grinning as she notes Kat’s movement.

“You do,” Kat agrees quietly, sipping from her hot chocolate. “It’s not that, at all.”

Lily notes her mood and shifts accordingly. “Someone’s a bit cranky today.”

“I’m not,” Kat rolls her eyes, forces out a laugh that’s too dry to be believable. “I mean, sorry. It’s not you.” Kat takes another sip, a longer one, if only to calm herself. She can’t help but feel like she’s getting closer to something altogether, slowly, and there is pounding in her chest that makes it difficult to breathe. “I mean, it is you, but.”

After a while, Lily says, “I don’t follow,” laying a hand on Kat’s on the table.

Kat stares at Lily’s hand, at where it burns her skin. Swallowing, she just says, “Never mind.”

They sit like that in silence, with Kat’s hand under Lily’s on the table, sipping their respective breakfast drinks in their available hands. They’re each looking the other way, but Kat knows they both know, how something needs to be said; if only Kat had the words to break this silence with.

After a long while, Lily says, finally: “This sure is something, isn’t it?”

And just like that, it is done. Kat just nods, says, “Yes, it certainly is.”

*

In the remaining days, Kat’s chest feels heavy but it’s not at all too unpleasant, granted that it’s with entirely fluttery feelings that she really feels ridiculous for, most days, and all Lily has to do to trigger it is _look_.

 _Bang, there it goes,_ Kat thinks to herself, still looking even after Lily’s already shifted her eyes. (Lily’s smiling now, head tilted, after laughing at something to the side, and it’s all so fucking lovely that Kat actually holds her breath, for the lack of some other appropriate bodily response.)

*

The last thing they shoot is the longest kiss ever; it’s in a park and it’s windy that afternoon. Before the thing, Lily fixes Kat’s nonexistent collar and asks her if she’s all right.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” asks Kat. The sun at this angle is giving Lily’s hair a lovely color, and she really can’t help her smile. “It’s a perfect day.”

“It’s also the last,” Lily says. She clears her throat at the end of it before looking away.

The last. Truth be told, Kat hasn’t had the time to think about things ending, but then, off the look on Lily’s face, something just tightens in her chest that she has to cough out to breathe. “Don’t say that,” she just says, right before the scene commences, and Lily steps in and closes the space between them.

It feels different, this time; a bit more force behind Lily’s lips, more urgency in her fingers as they weave into Kat’s hair. Kat kisses back like this isn’t about finishing touches, at all.

When Lily comes up for air, someone in the periphery applauds, and yet all that Kat really hears is Lily breathing. Her face is so close, and her eyes, so blue. Kat finds herself saying, “We can’t stop.”

After a beat or two, Lily says, “Then we don’t,” lips curling into a smile as she leans in again.

A gust of mid-afternoon wind blows past them, ruffling the hem of their skirts, and the sun is still warm on their skins. Kat’s mind fills with the softness of Lily’s lips and the warmth of her hands and how this feels like it’s never going to end, and in this in-between, Kat allows herself to think, _maybe_. #  


**Author's Note:**

> Skins rpf, lily/kat, 3,300 words. Unexpected fluff is unexpected. Title appropriated off something by tegan and sara. There is little truth in this; much liberty has been taken with a lot of things.


End file.
